


hush, hush

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Autism, Autistic Character, Autistic Karkat Vantas, Child Abuse, Chubkat, Emotional Talks, Fluff, M/M, Nonverbal Communication, Nonverbal periods, PTSD, Past Child Abuse, Self-Harm, Sign Language, Starvation, Stimming, Trans Dave Strider, Transphobia, autistic karkat, child molestation, smolkat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:54:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22459072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas
Kudos: 40





	hush, hush

His hand meets his soft, blonde hair and he watches the small strands slip between the crack in his fingers, never ceasing to interest him to no end.  
He hears a soft hum from him as he began to twirl it around his fingers.  
Humming was all he did today, and it perplexed him, quietness.  
His hair wasn’t long, but each strand was long and smooth, and connected to itself, through little atoms, like his sentences used to be, and jam was thick and chunky, and the chunks never came out smooth and sometimes dripped and dropped to the ground.  
His sentences were almost like jam, now, kind of, but then he stopped talking a whole lot because he was trying to make John feel better about something and it connected to Dave’s childhood.  
But that was okay, there were more quiet moments between them when his ears were relaxed and his hands weren’t on them, and he could feel the texture of his jeans against his fingertips, but his hands were only slightly moving, because that’s comfortable right now.  
He liked the quiet moments, when he laid in his lap and they were close to eachother and he could feel love and pity in his touch, which was his communication, and he got up real close and then he could feel his warm breath on his neck, not uncomfortable, and it was hard to keep his eyes open so he shut them and dreamt of wool-beasts, opening his eyes to laying in a soft thing, bedsheets, and he’ll grip onto them and coo.  
It reminded him of his lusus and how he’d be tucked in at morning to sleep. 

Dave’s childhood was a hush hush thing, which is something he doesn’t talk about, and if he murmurs something to him about it and he gets a weird face in reply, so he is quiet and he is quiet and there’s no questions.  
Scars are pink, and rough when he runs his hand down them, and then he rolls up his sleeve and rub on his, which are red. If he pokes someone long enough, not poke poke but ask, he doesn’t respond and he can’t get answers, so he keeps trying and then he sighs and then he talks. Finally.

”It’s like, really fucked up, but like, i don’t try to think about it and i hate when it’s brought up because i’m tryin’ to forget, but no,”

Long, connected sentences.

“i can’t, man, and it’s still gonna be there if i try.”

Long, stringed together words, that form a coherent train of them and make sense to the brain.

“It’s like i just ended up in a stuck rut. I don’t even know how to get out of it sometimes.”

His eyes trailed onto the very soft hand motions, which were the strokes to his arm and face, he was making soft rubs to those freckled cheeks, the human’s soft hair and, he pressed against his soft godtier outfit, hard, and closed his eyes.

“But, like-“

He took his warm palm, and he found himself conversing in small, meaningful hand-motions, each meaning a letter to a word.

“I guess i can’t beat around the bush anymore, so, i just don’t know how to put it into words, honestly, but it’s a complicated thing.”

Then he said it.  
His human-lusus, his brother, had done it, emotional, physical, and sexual harm to him for years.

He opened his eyes and looked up, and he knew he was hurting emotionally.  
It made him mad someone could do that, he didn’t deserve it.  
It was a rough grab, and his human flinched away, but then he found his hands gingerly on his, and then he didn’t flinch.  
It was easy to name facial expressions, and some expressive motions, but harder to connect them with emotion.  
Touch, it was what he used, and his touch told him about his nervousness.  
The human’s leg was bouncy, and his feet were tappy, and he recognized the nervous in that as well.  
His leg stopped being bouncy, and his foot stopped tapping, and were quiet.  
Signing, and signals of acceptance.  
He was still in love with him even though bad things happen, nothing changes that.  
And they laid down, and he cried and he purred and then he stopped.  
They were watching romance movies now.  
His ears pricked up, and he located the origin of the sound.  
He was humming again.


End file.
